


Two Reds Don't Make It Right

by Jet_M_Doods



Series: Red vs Red [2]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Action, Angst with a Happy Ending, Batfamily Feels, Brotherly Angst, Brotherly Bonding, Canon-Typical Violence, Dysfunctional Family, Gen, Graphic description of an injury, Hurt/Comfort, Jason on pain pills is a jerk, Tim drake needs a hug, You've been warned, i mishmash timeslines like its my job, or a little bit of attention once in a while, situational awareness saves lives kids
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-22
Updated: 2018-02-02
Packaged: 2018-03-25 05:23:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3798340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jet_M_Doods/pseuds/Jet_M_Doods
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jason thought he was just asking Tim for computer help. He wasn't anticipating being dragged along on his own case like luggage. He also wasn't planning on finding common ground with the Replacement.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Dammit.”

By the time Jason Todd caved and admitted to himself that he was going to have to ask for help with his current problem, he was well on his way to a tension headache. The half a pack of smokes he had gone through hadn’t helped and now he had a wicked case of cotton mouth and a desperate need for a glass of water.

The half smoked cigarette he was currently chewing bobbed on his lip as he continued cursing at the flickering security image in front of him. He had known for some time that his equipment wasn’t quite up to snuff but it had been awhile since he had had the time or energy to sneak into Wayne Manor to snag some replacement parts. He had been operating under the assumption that he could keep putting it off but if the minute and a half lag he was currently watch buffer _again_ was anything to go by, he had already run his computer into an untimely death.

He tapped a random beat on the banged up table in front of him as he tried to come up with any other way to solve this without having to purposefully seek out Red Robin. After several minutes of frustrated silence, he slapped his hand down on the table and then reached for his cell. Glancing at the time glowing on the tiny screen, he tried to remember where Drake was likely to be at this hour. It wasn’t that late yet so he crossed his fingers and dialed Tim’s personal cell.

While he waited, he tried refreshing the feed on his laptop repeatedly. It just figured that the stupid thing would pick tonight of all nights to take a metaphorical shit all over his plans. He had been tracking this drug ring for several nights now and tonight was supposed to be the night he found out who was running the show.

He glanced down at his left leg, stretched out in front of him and swathed in pristine bandages. If he wanted to get really technical, he should be blaming _himself_ for shitting all over his plans by not sticking what should have been a routine roof landing. He had gotten distracted at the last minute and didn’t see the jagged piece of metal he was swinging directly at. That had been followed by a rather unpleasant visit to Dr. Tompkin’s clinic; complete with stern lecture and double dose tetanus shot.

A sudden throbbing down his thigh killed any half baked ideas he had to make the trek down to the warehouse currently frozen on his screen. If there was anything Alfred would be proud of, it would be that Jason had begun to learn that sometimes, the extra strain on his body just wasn’t worth it.

Just when he was convinced he was going to voicemail, there was a click and Tim’s voice came down the line.

“Yes?”

Jason rolled his eyes at the suspicious tone Tim was using but he couldn’t exactly blame him. It wasn’t like they were best buds and while they could now be left in the same room alone without the family obsessively checking in, it wasn’t so long ago that Jason had tried to kill him with extreme prejudice.

“Replacement. So glad you’re free. As much as it pains me to say this, I need your help.”

“Who said I was free?”

Tim sounded distracted but he couldn’t have been that wrapped up in anything important. If he was, he would have ignored any call that hadn’t come in on a secure line.

“You did when you answered. I know you have caller ID.”

Suddenly Tim’s voice was coming through loud and clear. And annoyed.

“You’re right. I have no idea why I answered. Good night Jason….”

“WAIT!”

Jason sighed and took a second to make sure Tim hadn’t hung up on him.

“Ok, look. I need your help.”

That was as far as he could get before he heard Tim sighing (in an overly dramatic fashion if he had anything to say about it) and he had to shut his mouth in an effort to not mention it and start a fight. He shoved the cigarette back between his lips and listened to the unhappy whirring noise his computer was making as it tried to reboot.

“Am I going to regret asking what kind of help?”

Annoyed by the assumption that he was knee-deep in something illegal, Jason let out an aborted growl before yanking the cigarette out of his mouth and stubbing it out in the ashtray next to him. His leg gave another throb at the sudden movement.

“It’s nothing morally compromising, Replacement. I just need some techie help. If that’s too much just let me know. I can always call Harper.”

Come to think of it, why hadn’t he just called Roy to begin with? When had he started drifting back to his family when he needed something? His stomach clenched for a moment but a quick glance at the loading circle that seemed frozen on his monitor had him forcing his rising irritation back down.

“Techie stuff?”

Tim’s voice had gained a note of curiosity and Jason silently mouthed _bingo_ as he listened to what sounded like a backpack being zipped up on Tim’s end of the line.

“Yeah. I’ve been burning the midnight oil on this project for work and the stupid computer is too crappy to handle it.”

He knew that most likely, Tim had some sort of scrambling system for any phone calls he received but he wasn’t willing to take the chance.

“Too crappy, huh? That doesn’t really explain the problem. What’s too crappy?”

“If I knew that, Boy Wonder, I wouldn’t be calling _you_ now, would I?”

He tried to keep the sarcasm to a dull roar but he had been sitting in this chair for way too long and he was still thirsty and his leg hurt. The throbbing was growing more insistent and Jason pulled the phone away from his ear to check the time. Damn. Missed his last dose.

“Alright, don’t get your panties in a twist. I have something to finish up and then I’ll be over.”

“Fanfuckingtastic.”

With that, Jason hit the end button and tossed the phone onto the table next to the ashtray. He sighed and ran both hands through his hair and tried to resist throwing his laptop out the window. What a fucking waste of a night. By the time Tim showed up and diagnosed whatever the issue was with the piece of shit in front of him, the meeting he was trying to get intel on was going to be long over.

He pushed his chair away from the table and stood carefully, avoiding putting any weight on his bad leg as long as possible. It had been three days since the doomed roof jump, but he had managed to get the rebar right through the meaty part of his thigh. Between the rather deep cut, the residual bruising around said wound, and the resulting stitches, he had yet to get any lasting relief.

It was a slow journey to the small kitchenette that took up residence in the back corner of the tiny apartment he was using at the moment. Normally, when he was in the middle of a case, he stayed in one of the craptacular safe houses he had scattered around the city. Unfortunately, he had been in no condition to argue with Leslie Tompkins when she suggested that he “ _find some place a little more hospitable than whatever shithole you’re sleeping in these days”._  He knew that she was talking about the Manor but Jason wasn’t ready to take that step yet. At this point, he didn’t know if he would ever be ready.

It took a handful of painful attempts to walk normally before he gave up and hopped the rest of the way. Leaning against the sink, he grabbed the bottle of painkillers that was standing in the place of honor next to a chipped mug still full of the dregs of that morning’s coffee. He popped the top off the bottle with his teeth while picking up the mug in front of him. After digging out two of the largest pills he had seen in a long time, he tossed them back and followed it with the last of the cold coffee.

Now there was nothing left to do but wait.

\--

It was about an hour later that there was knocking on his door, which was Jason’s first indication that he was about to be graced with Tim Drake’s presence and not that of Red Robin’s. If he was in full costume, Tim wouldn’t have bothered with the door.

“Come in!”

Jason was feeling loopy from the pills and had absolutely no interest in getting up. He was mostly sure that the door was open and even if it wasn’t, Tim would have no problem letting himself in.

Sure enough, a few seconds later, Tim poked his head around the door and did a quick visual sweep of the room. Jason snorted. The little shit wasn’t even trying to hide that he was looking for booby traps.

“Replacement, if I was going to try and take you down again, I wouldn’t bother with a stupid cover story about a broken computer.”

Tim seemed to consider this for moment before opening the door fully and cautiously entering the room.

“You’ll have to forgive me for not being entirely convinced.”

His voice had a wry note to it.

Jason turned his head away from where he had been watching the cracks in the ceiling and locked eyes with Tim’s.

“What’s up, little bro. Welcome to mi casa.”

He spread his arms much like a game show host would when showing off a prize. He knew he was laying on the false cheer a bit thick, but he was perfectly willing to blame the painkillers. Sitting up slowly, he calculated the distance between the couch and what was passing as his coffee table these days.

Tim snorted somewhere behind him and he heard the sound of something heavy hitting the ground. Curious, he leaned forward to see around the arm of the couch and was surprised to see such a large duffle bag on the floor by Tim’s feet.

He slowly looked up to where Tim was watching him carefully.

“You were a boy scout, weren’t you?”

Tim scrunched up his face and shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. He seemed to be studying Jason. If the way he visibly relaxed a moment later was any indicator, Jason wasn’t coming off as particularly threatening.

Made sense, since he didn’t feel particularly threatening at the moment. He was wearing the oldest tank top he owned and a pair of beat up basketball shorts he had probably stolen from Bruce. The bandages around his left thigh began above the bottom of his shorts and stopped just above his knee. Following Tim’s line of sight, he figured this was what had made him relax so quickly.

Snorting, he carefully pulled himself to his feet and stood still for a minute, leaning lightly against the coffee table, and waiting for his equilibrium to catch up.

“Ah yes, don’t worry Boy Wonder, I couldn’t hurt a fly right now even if I wanted too. Now, why don’t you step into my office?”

He turned towards the back of the apartment and carefully limped the five feet to the table where his piece of shit laptop was sitting. From behind him came the sound of dragging and he glanced back to see Tim pulling the large duffle around the back of the couch.

He dragged the only other chair in the room closer to the table and gestured Tim towards it.

“Shall we get right down to it? This is my current problem. I was trying to watch a meet that would have given me the dipshit in charge of my most current little problem and this stupid thing won’t behave.”

Tim, who had sunk into the chair slowly like he was expecting something to happen to him, reached out and pulled the computer towards himself. For the next half hour or so, there was nothing but the sound of Tim’s occasional _hmm’s_ and _well, that’s not good’s_ punctuated by clicking sounds coming from the lighter Jason was playing with.

It was taking so long, that he had completely zoned out and was therefore startled to hear Tim’s voice calling his name. He was still clicking away on Jason’s laptop but now there was another one on the table next to it; a thick cable attaching the two. By the tone of his voice, this wasn’t the first time Tim had tried to get his attention.

“So what did you do? Piss off some mid-level cronie? Wrestle with Doc Croc? Try to cook?”

Tim was smirking now and Jason frowned in his direction before sliding the pack of cigarettes closer to him. Pulling one out, he leaned back and lit it, blowing the smoke in Tim’s direction before answering.

“Had a run-in with a piece of rusty rebar during patrol.”

Tim winced and paused for a minute, glancing in his direction.

“Ouch. You taking anything?”

Jason took another drag, nodding at the same time.

“Some version of the usual.”

He didn’t mention Leslie; the last he had heard, she and Bruce were still on bad terms. He was 100% sure that would have spread to the rest of the little birdies as well.

Tim returned to his work and Jason took the time to study him out of the corner of his eye. He seemed tired, but from what Jason understood, that was normal. He was wearing civvies; a black hoodie over a pair of well worn jeans. His hair was in the usual artful mess he spent so much time affecting. If Jason didn’t know better, he would say that it looked like Tim had come over straight from school but that wasn’t possible. Not at the time Jason had called him. Something must have gone down if Red Robin had been grounded.

“So…”

He stuck the cigarette into the corner of his mouth and ran both hands through his hair before taking a deep drag and exhaling loudly.

“No patrol tonight?”

Tim paused so briefly that if Jason hadn’t been looking for it, he would have assumed Tim hadn’t heard him.

His response, when it came almost a full minute later, was very quiet and definitely disgruntled sounding.

“Not tonight. No.”

“Hmm. What’d you do?”

Tim reached between the computers and disconnected the cable.

“What makes you think I did something?”

He sounded way too casual; like when Jason had been younger and trying to pull one over on Alfred.

“Fess up. It’s not like it matters if I know. I’m the reigning black sheep, remember? There’s nothing you could do that would put you further down Bruce’s list than I am.”

He thought he had managed to make his words sound carefree, but the way Tim looked up at him sharply, he assumed he hadn’t quite managed it. Well, fuck it. He had nothing to prove to anyone. Certainly not the kid who had replaced him.

“If you must know, I got in a fight with Damian. Dick came in during the middle of it. It was…unpleasant.”

Jason snorted. _Oh, I’m sure it was._

“Oh really. I don’t see any injuries.”

“Probably wouldn’t have seemed so bad if there had been.”

Tim sounded like he was still angry but trying hard to pretend he wasn’t. Jason was very familiar with that particular tone. Still, he knew enough to read between the lines to what Tim wasn’t saying.

Damian had a particular way with words that was so biting and awful that even now, some of the things that came out of his mouth shocked Jason. Tim wasn’t easy to rile up, but once you had, he could hold his own in an argument no matter how rude or personal things got. The difference was that afterwards, he at least seemed to feel bad about what he had said. Damian? Not so much.

“So let me guess…Dick benched you and took demon brat out on patrol?”

“It wasn’t really a command, more of a strong suggestion but…with everything else that’s been going on lately, it didn’t seem like a good idea to push it. Dick’s been a little strung out between Bludhaven problems and trying to civilize the brat.”

While he was talking, Tim had been busy pulling up several windows on the laptop that he had brought with him. Jason leaned closer, trying to keep the smoke out of his eyes so he could see what Tim was doing. On the screen in front of him, was the same scene that Jason had been watching before his computer had decided it was done with life.

“Shit. That’s awesome. Thanks kid.”

“Don’t call me that.”

The response was automatic. Tim wasn’t even looking at him when he said it and there was no heat behind the words.

“So I can’t fix your hunk of junk, but I was able to transfer the files to my laptop and with that, I pulled up the security cameras in the area you were watching. I got the last six hours of data. Obviously that doesn’t help now, since your guys are long gone, but you can at least watch the footage and see who the meet was with.”

Jason was impressed despite himself. He knew Tim was good with electronics but he had sort of assumed that was only when he was working with state of the art equipment that could be replaced if anything went wrong.

“Ok, sweet.”

He watched the footage as it spun past backwards and was confused for a minute when he thought he saw a third figure in the space where there should have been only two. He shook his head and glanced in the direction of the sink. He knew the pills Leslie had given him were strong, but she never mentioned anything about hallucinations. Smart move on her part; he never would have taken them.

It took less than a minute for Tim to get to the start of the data and it was at that point that Jason realized that he hadn’t been thinking clearly and didn’t want to watch the whole six hours.

“Sorry, spaced for a minute. Can you move ahead to 9pm?”

Tim immediately moved to locate the correct section of footage.

“Spaced out, huh? That stuff must be strong. No wonder you’re being so nice.”

Jason flicked his eyes in Tim’s direction but chose to file that comment away for later because Tim had paused at the requested time and something wasn’t right. There were already three people on camera when the meet hadn’t been scheduled to take place until 9:30. Jason had only picked 9 o’clock because he wanted to check to see if anyone was lingering around beforehand. He pulled the computer closer to him, squinting at the figures to make sure he was really seeing who he thought he was.   


There was the low-level dealer he had been following to begin with, the man he assumed he was meeting, and then…there was Angela. What the hell was she doing there? He hadn’t heard anything about the local girls being involved in the drug business but he supposed if any of them were going to give it a try, it would be Angela. She was smart and knew her way around a deal. That didn’t make her violent though, and Jason’s stomach sunk as he watched the deal fall apart in front of him.

The guy he had been following was backing slowly away from the other man and was pulling Angela with him. At first, it looked like he was trying to protect her but the longer he watched, the more Jason became convinced that she was not going willingly.

“Shit. Shit! SHIT. Angie, what the fuck are you doing?”

Tim, who had been swinging between watching the footage and watching Jason’s reaction to the footage, looked startled.

“She’s not part of the deal?”

He sounded cautious; like he was afraid of setting Jason off.

“Not that I knew of and it doesn’t look like she’s leaving willingly either. Something got fucked. This is not good. I need to find her.”

He shoved his chair back and away from the table, stumbling a little as he stood; in his agitation he had forgotten that his leg couldn’t hold his weight. He pushed off from the table and tried heading for his bedroom.

“Wait, what are you doing? You can’t go anywhere. You can barely walk right now!”

Tim pushed his chair back as well, standing and putting his arms out in front of himself like he was about to talk Jason down from a ledge.

“Just calm down for a second and let’s think this through. Ok?”

Jason ignored him as he looked wildly around for his boots and mask. He had to go find Angela now. He didn’t have many acquaintances that didn’t instinctually fear him but Angie had always been an exception. She was a big help whenever Jason needed it; wrangling the girls and keeping them off the streets when he knew something big was going down. Now she needed help, and he would be damned if he wouldn’t give it to her.

“Jason just _stop_ for a minute. Are you really going to go out like this? You don’t even have pants on! What are you doing? _What the fuck are you on?_ HOOD! Stop moving!”

Jason paused, startled by the authority coming from Tim. He turned to look at his visitor, domino mask dangling from his hand.

“Look….”

Tim paused, shoved his hands into his pockets and sighed deeply.

“Why don’t you just sit down for a minute and we’ll come up with a plan. Ok?”

“We?”

“Yes, we.  What kind of brot…person would I be if I let you run out the door like that? Just sit. Give me a chance to figure this out.”

Jason shuffled over to the couch and slowly sat down. As soon as he stopped moving, his leg started throbbing again. He looked down at the bandages and was incredibly annoyed to see the beginning spots of blood coming up through the bottom layers of gauze. He covered the spot with his hand and waited as Tim brought the laptop over to him.

“Ok. Who is the guy with your friend? Where can we find him?”

Jason was momentarily stunned into silence. He had been so frantic that he hadn’t thought about where he was headed at all. He looked down at his shorts-clad legs and felt his stomach drop.

“The Hollows. He’s in The Hollows.”

“Great. So how about you put together everything you know about him, and I’ll go suit up and go after him.”

“I’m coming with you.”

“No. You’re not.”

“Yes I am.”

Tim looked pointedly at Jason’s leg.

“No, you’re not.”

“Look, I am heading after this bastard regardless of what you say. I will wait until you leave this apartment and go out the window if I have to. So why don’t you just say yes and we can move on.”

There was a long moment of silence before Tim sighed.

“Ok. Here’s the deal. We’re taking my bike. No rooftops. You wouldn’t make it more than a block. You tell me where to go and when we get there, you wait outside. I’ll go in and get your friend and book it. Deal?”

“Like hel…”

“DEAL?”

Tim raised an eyebrow at him. He looked perfectly calm, like he could wait all night for Jason’s answer. He probably could.

“…FINE.”

“Great. Glad we cleared that up. Now, tell me what you’ve got on this guy.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their timing sucks, Jason keeps fucking himself up, and Tim isn't nearly as stable as he'd like Jason to believe.

The ride to the Hollows was at best, awkward. After Jason had given Tim all the info he had, they had gotten into another argument about Jason’s involvement in the evening’s mission. Tim wasn’t impressed with Jason’s stubbornness (“ _dude…is that…are you bleeding again? You are insane.”)_ and Jason wasn’t impressed with Tim’s mother hen routine (“ _fuck off and go get your little bird scooter, Replacement_.”) The end result was that both young men were not happy to be forced into such close quarters on Tim’s bike.

It didn’t help that Jason was reluctantly _very_ impressed with what turned out to be Tim’s ride. The bright red Ducati was a thing of beauty and Jason had a fleeting thought of stealing it when the night was over. He was also surprised that Tim was driving it the same way he would have if he owned it. He had always imagined that Tim Drake was the complete opposite of Red Robin in every way. He didn’t really know what to do with the realization that he had been wrong.  

Tim took another sharp corner, and Jason had no choice but to grab tighter to the back of Tim’s jacket to avoid being thrown. Normally he would have at least pretended to be annoyed but this was the closest he had gotten to running in days.

The drugs were beginning to wear off and Jason was able to focus clearly on the feeling of the wind rushing around his helmet. He had always loved the feeling of moving against the wind, the way the buildings looked like they were rushing at him and the flashes of light from the street lamps. If he was moving fast enough, it always felt like strobe lights.

He had spent some time when he was younger as a runner for a guy who owned a dance club. The guy had been nicer than most, so Jason had worked for him longer than usual and ever since then, he felt most comfortable in a club atmosphere. He could always lose himself in the music and between the drinks, and the distracting lighting, he could pretend he was someone who mattered.

The comm in his ear crackled and then Tim’s voice came through. He sounded calm, but clearly he wasn’t quite ready to let their earlier argument go just yet.

“You still in one piece back there? It’s a real bitch cleaning blood off this thing.”

Jason snorted before pinching Tim’s side.

“Just drive. We’re almost there.”

“Great.”

The comm went silent again and Jason looked around them as they slowed down, trying to get a feel for how busy the neighborhood was tonight. There were some small groups hanging on the street corners and a few lone wolves either doing their best to be noticed by those groups, or hurrying with their heads down and moving with purpose.

A typical night in the Hollows.

One more turn, and their location was right in front of them. It was a squat warehouse on a dead end, right by the water. There were an alarming number of cars parked around it.

_Always with the fucking warehouses. If we just blew them up, we’d probably cut down on at least half the crime in all of Gotham._

The com fizzed into service again and this time Tim’s voice sounded a little annoyed.

“Hood, are you sure there’s nothing going down here tonight? I thought you said this was a small operation.”

“Yeah, kid, it usually is. But nothing else has gone right tonight, so why shouldn’t this be the same?”

Tim snorted and rolled the bike behind a couple of dumpsters that lined the sidewalk, before putting down the kickstand.

Jason carefully slid off the back, avoiding the exhaust pipe on his way. Back when he was still Robin, he had learned the hard way that it was best to avoid touching them. It was an experience he wasn’t anxious to repeat.

Next to him, Tim was scoping out the roofs of all the buildings in the immediate area so Jason carefully moved to the edge of the closest dumpster and started scanning the entrance of the building they were planning on entering. There was nothing to set this building apart from any other decrepit building they had all spent too much time in. It was a couple of levels tall, with rows of dark windows and a rather large front door. It was only a few hundred yards away from their current position but from here, it looked quiet.

Since there was no activity, he moved his gaze to the alley that ran down the left side of the building. There was a light on behind the warehouse and it provided just enough light to fill the alley with shadows. He doubted that it had been done on purpose but it was going to provide incredibly effective cover for anyone who needed a quick escape. He filed it away for later incase this went as poorly as he suspected it was going to.

With that in mind, he turned to where Tim was just putting away his binoculars.

“Red, I’m coming with you.”

Tim’s head shot up and Jason could feel the heavy gaze despite the whiteout lens in Tim’s mask.

“Absolutely not Hood. Jesus Christ, you just don’t give up do you?” Tim’s voice was incredulous.

“Nope.”

Tim’s weight shifted to one side as he crossed his arms under his cape.

“What part of liability do you not get? Do you need a definition?” Jason wondered what Tim would do if he told him how much he reminded Jason of a younger version of himself at the moment.

“What are you going to do to stop me? Tie me to the bike?”

Tim cocked his head for a second like he was actually considering it.

“Don’t tempt me!”

 “Look Replacement. Don’t feel bad. It’s not your leadership skills that suck. It’s my listening. And frankly, there’s not a ton of cover out here anyway. If I’m going to be possibly defending myself regardless, I might as well come with you. At the very least, I can be a distraction.”

Jason got the impression that if Tim wasn’t trying to stay hidden, he would be throwing his arms up and yelling. As it was, he only shifted restlessly for a minute as he stared in Jason’s direction.

“Why are you so quick to throw yourself in the way of danger? Do you have a death wish?”

Jason felt his stomach drop and he wasn’t sure if the sharp intake of breath he heard was his or Tim’s.

“…Hood….”

His voice, when he spoke next, was husky even to his own ears.

“Why don’t we just focus on what we’re doing here. No need to drag this night out any longer than necessary.”

Tim was silent for a moment and when his next comment came, it was quiet but determined.

“Just think about this for a second. We don’t know what floor Angela is on, _if_ she’s even here at all. Do you think you are up to running around a building with multiple probable assailants? How long do you really think you will be able to keep up?”

Jason’s comment was cut off by a loud slamming noise as the door to the warehouse they had been discussing was flung open.

Both boys’ heads whipped toward the noise and they found themselves watching as Angela herself was shoved roughly to the ground in front of the building. She stayed on her knees, crying loudly and trying to make herself as small as possible. There was blood running down her head. As they watched, the man who had shoved her reached behind his back and when his hands came back in view, he was cocking a handgun.

“Son of a _fucking_ bitch.”

Jason was moving before he was conscious of having made the decision. There was a feeling of desperation rising in his chest as he realized there was no way he was going to make it to her in time.

“Left!”

Jason still had the old training drilled into his head and he knew the command meant to swerve right.  Unfortunately, his leg chose that moment to give out on him and he stumbled into the way of Red Robin’s thrown disc and it bounced off of his helmet, knocking it off course long before it reached its destination.

The throwing disc hit the wall right behind the perp’s head and he jerked around to stare at it wide-eyed before swinging his head back in the direction it had come from.

“Shit.”

Jason was struggling to regain his balance and Tim was forced to go around him as he ran forward. Angela saw Hood at that moment and she started screaming in his direction.

“Hood! Help me!”

Jason raised his eyes and the scene before him seemed to go slow-mo.

Tim was reaching for his belt as he moved towards them, shouting loudly. Angela was rising up on her knees, arm outreached towards Jason in appeal. The perp behind her, seeing who she was yelling to, locked eyes with Jason, a wicked grin stretching his face as he pointed the firearm at the back of Angela’s head.

The sound of the gun off ricocheted through Jason’s head and he watched in horror as Angela’s scream cut off, and her eyes went wide before she fell face first to the ground.

Jason, who had fallen to his own knees, felt frozen. Tim kept moving, discs flying through the air as the thug raised his gun level to Tim's chest. Through a dulled sense of shock, all Jason could think was that there was no way Tim’s thrown discs were going to hit him. Batman’s training meant that they had to aim for limbs to do the least amount of damage beyond what was necessary. The mission _demanded_ as little bloodshed as possible.

The sound of metal cutting through the air got him moving and he pushed himself to his feet and started following as fast as he could after Tim. His anger felt like fire spreading through his veins. Anger at the man who had just murdered Angie in cold blood. Anger at Angie for getting herself caught up in whatever was happening. And mostly, anger at himself. If he had only known that his moment of inattention several days ago would lead to Angela’s death, he would have done everything he could to change it. Batman had spent _years_ pounding that into his head.

_You NEVER let your guard down. Every second you aren’t paying attention could mean the death of someone else and you’ll never see it coming. You have to be better than EVERYONE around you. No exceptions._

He was stumbling as fast as he could but he had no chance of getting there before his younger brother did. There was growling in his helmet and at first he thought it was his own voice echoing back at him. It took a hitch of his breath to realize that he wasn’t making any noise. Surprise flooded him as he realized it was coming from Tim.

The first punch thrown took Jason completely by surprise. Tim wasn’t using the training Batman had given them; he was throwing fists like he was in a street brawl and had only one intention: put the thug in the ground. Jason watched as Red Robin rolled, kicking the gun from his grip, before taking the larger man down with him.  From there, it was like watching a fight in a high school hallway. Both men were doing whatever they could to get the upper hand. The secure line they were on had been live the whole time and Jason could barely understand what was coming out of Tim’s mouth. It didn’t sound like words so much as snarling.

Jason finally reached Angela and knelt down slowly, praying for the impossible. He put his fingers to her pulse and the last shred of hope he had been carrying fizzed out. There was nothing there. He lowered his head for a moment, feeling utterly worn out and depressed.

The sounds of the fight next to him dragged his head up eventually and what he saw was completely shocking to him. Tim had the thug on his back and was repeatedly slamming his head into the ground. There was no resistance coming from the man underneath him. The thug seemed to be unconscious but Tim didn’t appear to notice.

“Red! Stop! What the fuck are you doing?”

Tim’s motion slowed down enough that Jason was sure he could hear what was being said.

“STOP. NOW. That’s an order!”

Jason had no idea where the phrasing had come from, but it did the trick and Red Robin dropped the man’s shoulders in front of him. Leaning back on his haunches, he turned his head to look at Jason. His breathing was harsh and erratic.

In the developing silence, Jason became aware of how loud they had been. He was surprised that no one had come looking after the gunshot rang out but he had no interest in hanging around and waiting for the inevitable.

“We have to hit it, Red. Call this in and go. Now.”

Tim seemed unusually clumsy as he hit a button on his belt. Jason wasn’t sure what the tech was, but it appeared to be some sort of automatic call system. His guess was confirmed when a minute later, they were connected with the Gotham PD dispatcher on duty.

Tim gave the particulars, then ended the call. Jason had yet to move from his spot even though his leg was now throbbing. He had never seen Tim act this way in the field before. Curiosity was flooding his thoughts and he made an effort to push it back.

“As much as I don’t want to say this, I need your help. Getting up.”

Tim’s breath had settled and he calmly looked over at Jason, before nodding. Turning back to the unconscious man in front of him, he pulled three R shaped throwing discs out of the man’s upper chest.

“Woah. What the hell happened there, kid? That’s not where we were taught to aim.”

Tim rose to his feet like an avenging angel and turned back towards Jason.

“I told you not to call me kid.”

His voice was stone cold and Jason felt something flutter in his stomach. This was completely opposite of everything he’d come to understand was in Tim’s nature. For a brief moment, it occurred to him that he should find a way to get a blood sample and scan it for some sort of toxin. He didn’t have time to think about it further as Tim was suddenly above him, holding out his hand.

Jason looked down one last time to Angela, brushing her hair back from what little face he could see. He leaned towards her ear, paused and considered turning off the comm before he realized that at this distance, Tim was going to hear anything he said regardless.

“I’m so sorry Angie. Rest easy. All your troubles are over.” His anger rising again, he silently vowed to make sure that he took out every player in this fucked up deal. With that he sighed and reached out to grasp Tim’s hand. 

He needed more help than he expected and that wore on his nerves just as badly as the rest of the night had. Resting all of his weight on his right leg, he pulled his cell phone out of his back pocket.

“We need Oracle’s help here. We can’t take down whoever is in there by ourselves. I’ll just call her and let her know we need back up.”

“No need. Already done.”

Jason cocked his head to take in Red Robin’s stance. He was standing with his hands on his hips, looking down at Angela. His face was alarmingly blank. Jason wished for a minute that Tim’s costume didn’t have whiteout lens.

“What?” It took him a minute to follow what Tim had said. He was tired, in pain and in no mood to do what needed to be done.

“I let Oracle know what was going on here and that we weren’t able to take care of it. I have orders to get you home.”

“…what?”

Apparently, he also had no words left. The confusion in his voice was enough to wake Tim out of his stupor.

“I said let’s go.” He pointed at Jason’s leg. When Jason followed his finger, he found himself looking at a growing wet patch on his jeans. Fuck.

Tim moved forward, and grabbing Jason’s arm, he flung it over his shoulders.

“Might as well go patch you up. Again.”

Jason caught the quick twist of his voice, and had to force himself to not turn and stare at him.

The only thought he had running through his head on their eternally slow and painful march back to Tim’s bike was _which one of us is he talking about?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess this is going to be longer than I thought. Oops. The music for this chapter was a lot of indy hiphop and house. If you're interested in listening to what I was listening to when I wrote this, check out: Sweatshop Union, Action Bronson, and ODESZA.


	3. Chapter 3

They had made it little more than halfway back to the bike when the door behind them slammed open with an echoing clang and angry shouts rang out into the night air.

“Shit.”

Jason looked back over his shoulder at the growing number of thugs swarming down the steps towards them. Tim had come to a halt as well and was also looking over his shoulder. His face was grim. They locked gazes for a minute, Tim’s head tilted to the side in silent question. Jason didn’t hesitate, just gave a quick nod and took a deep breath before Tim dropped his arm and then he was standing on his own.

Balancing on his good leg, he swiveled towards the growing group of angry thugs, pulling his firearm out from his side holster. He gauged Tim’s current trajectory, making sure that he wouldn’t put a bullet in his younger brother as he took aim at the only two criminals currently making a move towards Red Robin.

The comm clicked on and Tim’s voice came into his helmet loudly.

“Don’t kill, Hood.”

That was all Tim said before going silent and Jason snorted. Of course. Even in the middle of a potential fatal fight, a damn bat would never forget that Jason was a murderer. Priorities and all.

“Just keep out of the way, kid.”

He cancelled the comm link as he got a bead on the thug closer to Tim and pulled the trigger. There was a sharp cry and the man was skidding across pavement on his back. Two quick squeezes of the trigger later and his buddy was down too.

The bodies hitting the ground in front of him, gave Tim the opportunity he needed to pull his bo staff and ram it into the stomach of the nearest man still standing. After that, Jason had a hard time keeping track of Tim’s movements as he swirled and leapt through the air. He just did his best to aim at the fuckers farthest away from Tim at any given time.

“What the fuck. Are these all clown cars?”

For every man who went down, it seemed that two more poured out of the building behind them. Jason was beginning to feel increasingly annoyed. His good leg was shaking and it was messing with his aim. He wasn’t purposefully following Tim’s order, but he had seen enough blood and brains on the pavement tonight and he didn’t particularly care to see anymore. Between the growing tremors in his body, and Tim’s overly fast motions, he was afraid he was going to wind up with a kill count and Batman on his ass again.

He could feel sweat running down his forehead and he was starting to feel queasy. Not good. After seeing the mess his leg was slowly becoming, he had known blood loss was going to rear its ugly head because that’s just how shitty the rest of the night had been. Didn’t mean he wanted to deal with it.

He got off his last shot, and as Tim’s cape swirled around his target, Jason prayed that he had hit the right person. He stumbled back a step, trying to wipe off the cold sweat that was beginning to run into his eyes before he remembered that he was wearing his helmet.

The alley was beginning to take on a fuzzy appearance and every time he blinked, it seemed to take longer before he was seeing the action in front of him. His leg gave a particularly nasty throb and a moment later, he found himself on his butt, staring up at Tim as he flew through the air to land on another assailant’s back.

Movement from the edge of his vision pulled his head to the right and he was left wondering how long Batgirl and Black Bat had been on site. They were making quick work of several men who had materialized out of the shadows in the alley next to the building. Jason blinked again as he realized he had been right: the lights did create the perfect hiding spot. A shrill noise was starting up in his helmet and he realized that it was the sound of sirens. Shit. They weren’t supposed to be on site when the cavalry showed.

He clicked on the comm and drew in a breath. God his throat was dry. He paused for a second, closing his eyes and wondering what he would see when he opened them again.

“Red…co….”

He had to stop and clear his throat before continuing.

“Cops are on their way.”

Was that really his voice? He sounded drunk. That couldn’t be good. He wondered if Leslie still did house calls.

“…wrong with him?”

Jason startled when he heard Steph’s voice coming from inside his helmet and it took him longer than he liked to remember that all the bats had the same comm channels.

Tim’s voice sounded distracted when he answered.

“Probably blood loss at…is point. When w…p earlier, he had pull…itches fr…an injury he…couple days ago.”

At first Jason thought that there was something wrong with his comm. He knocked on the side of his helmet a couple of times thinking that would help. It was almost a full minute before he realized that the comm was shorting out in time with his blinks. He shook his head firmly, trying to clear his mind. He was not going down. He had to get revenge for Angie. His resolve hardened once again, he managed to make it to his knees before pain like he hadn’t felt in years ripped through his thigh and he slammed his hands on the ground to maintain his balance.

He thought he had managed to strangle the yelp that tore its way from his throat but Cass’ voice in his ear made him realize he had not been successful.

“Red Robin. We will handle this. Take Hood home.”

Tim made the beginning of a protest but Steph cut him off before he could really get started.

“Red, he’s gonna bleed out in this shithole. Who’s gonna explain that to B, huh?”

When Jason was able to look, the leg of his jeans was soaked with red and glistening. He felt his stomach roll over and for a long minute, he thought he was going to be sick in his helmet. He gulped several times until he was able to breathe again and when he looked up, Tim was just crouching down in front of him.

He didn’t look pleased. _Awesome. That makes two of us._ Jason just stared at him, waiting to see what the kid would do. He wouldn’t be overly surprised if Tim got up and walked away. There was no reason for him to try to help Jason. Jason hadn’t done anything but cause him grief and actively try to remove him from the picture permanently.

After a pause, Tim gave a whole body sigh before standing, leaning forward and pulling Jason to his feet. Neither of them was entirely surprised when Jason’s knees buckled and Tim seemed to be prepared for it. His grip was the only thing holding Jason up.

“You’re going to hate me for this tomorrow but tough shit.”

Tim huffed before bending his knees and swinging Jason up into a fireman’s carry. A moment later, he felt Tim settle onto his bike, and then he was laying on Tim’s lap, Tim’s arms bracing him from falling. The bike started up and then they were peeling away from the warehouse, in the opposite direction from the sirens. The rumbling of the bike was going right through his head and he hated being in such a helpless position. The tiny part of his brain that was still firing on all cylinders understood the need for it, but that didn’t stop the rest of him from trying to struggle.

“Stay still Jay. You’re going to make me dump the bike.”

Jason wanted to protest but he had no energy left and he was feeling really tired and all he wanted was to be sleeping.

When he said as much to Tim, he was startled to hear the younger boy yelling loudly in his ear through the comm.

“Jay! Don’t you dare go to sleep. I’m not dragging your ass all over the city so you can die on me. JASON! Son of a bitch.”

The bike slowed to a halt before Tim was pulling him up and off the front seat. Jason felt himself sliding towards the ground and then he was lying on his back and his helmet was being unlatched and pulled off his head. The cool air felt amazing on his face for all of a few seconds before he started shivering.

He felt someone slap his cheek lightly and he forced his eyes open to see Tim looking down at him with a very worried expression on his face.

“Hood. You have to stay awake. Come on man, don’t do this.”

Jason nodded his head. Sure. He could stay awake. In all of his memories of Tim’s face, he had never seen this expression on it in regards to himself. Mad, livid, frustrated, annoyed, but never concerned. He was curious to know what had caused the expression now. He knew he should be worried that he couldn’t remember but it seemed like too much effort. He felt himself drifting off but Tim nudged him and called his name again sharply.

When he could focus again, Tim was pulling what looked like a first aid kit out of one of the pouches on his utility belt. He seemed to be mumbling to himself. Jason tried to make out what he was saying but the only words that made sense were “Alfred” and “hurry”.

Before he could dwell on it, Tim was swinging towards him again with a small knife. Through his haze, Jason knew he should be concerned with the fact that the Replacement had just pulled a knife on him. After all, it hadn’t been that long ago that Jason had done the same to him with some pretty terrible results. As it was, all he could do was grunt in alarm.

Tim didn’t appear to notice. He was cutting a line up Jason’s jeans and cursing a blue streak. He paused for a brief second with a quiet “oh god” before he continued cutting. Jason lifted his head off the ground, curious to know what had happened. When he saw his leg, he wished he hadn’t.

His thigh looked like ground meat. All but two stitches on either end of the wound had ripped through his skin and between that and the blood that was still seeping, he had to clamp his mouth shut to keep from vomiting. His vision swam and he put his head back on the ground and tried not to whimper.

He wasn’t sure what Tim was doing now, and he couldn’t make himself care. All he could see was that gaping hole in his thigh. He heard a package being ripped open, followed by Tim’s voice.

“Jay, this is gonna hurt.”

Jason was about to respond, his mouth open and words ready to tumble out when an incredible pain ripped through him and everything went black.

…

His hearing came back before anything else. He was surrounded in darkness with nothing but the sound of his own breathing. It felt the same as waking up in a wooden box.

_Not again. Please god, no._

The beeping sound he had not really been aware of picked up speed and an alarm was suddenly going off very close to his head.

He tried to open his eyes, but it was like they had been glued shut. He could feel his panic rising and with it, the beeping sped up. He tried to pull his arm to his face; planning to peel his lids open by hand if necessary, but he couldn’t move it more than a couple of inches. Starting to hyperventilate, he tried moving his other arm with the same result.

He could hear his breaths turning to whimpers and right before he completely lost it, there was a voice he thought he would never hear again.

“Master Jason! Please, stop moving! You are only making it worse!”

Was Alfred trapped with him? How did this happen? He started pulling on his restraints harder, tiny cries spilling from his mouth, unchecked.

“Alfie, we’re going to have to sedate him. He’s going to undo all your work.”

Dick was here too?

“I know Master Dick. Prepare the syringe.”

With those words, Jason’s heart started beating so fast he thought it was going to explode out of his chest. _No, no, no, no, no…_ ”no, no, no, please…”

He didn’t realize he had started speaking out loud until a gentle hand came down first on his cheek, then his shoulder.

“I’m terribly sorry Master Jason, but it’s for your own good.”

With that there was a pinch, and Jason’s blood felt like it was on fire before once again, everything faded into nothing.

…

The next time he woke, Jason knew where he was before he opened his eyes. Nothing could ever mask the oppressive feeling of a home you were no longer welcome in. He stifled a sigh, trying to stay as still as possible until he could figure out if there was anyone near him.

There was a beeping that brought back a vague memory of panic but he didn’t know of any reason he would have to be upset over a heart monitor. He could see light shining through his eyelids and while he wasn’t _quite_ sure why, he felt an almost overwhelming sense of relief.

After a few quiet moments, when no one had run in and announced that he was awake, he decided he was alone and slowly opened his eyes. He was staring at the ceiling of his old room. _Well, shit._ He moved his head to the side and found the heart monitor he had been listening to as well as an I.V. pole with two bags on it. One was blood.

He paused for a minute, trying to figure out what he could have done that needed a blood transfusion and could think of nothing. His brain was a little fuzzy still and he recognized it as a side effect of really great painkillers. He slowly swung his head to the other side of the bed, and his breath caught in his throat.

He wasn’t actually alone.

Dick was sprawled in a wingback chair that had clearly been brought from some other room of the house. His head was leaning against the back of the chair, his eyes were closed and a thin line of drool was running down the side of his mouth.

Jason snorted, then coughed. Fuck his throat was dry. He swung his eyes further to where his old nightstand was. _Oh, thank god._ He reached for the water cup sitting close to the edge of the small table and for a moment, he was relieved that he could move his arm at all. He was puzzled by his reaction but his thirst overrode it and he chose to concentrate on getting the cup into his hand, and then to his mouth.

He was successful and after taking a long drink, he placed the cup back on the table and lay back, exhausted. He had no idea what he had done that had landed him back in enemy territory but it had to have been bad.

Part of him felt an overwhelming urge to get out of bed and run for the windows. A larger part of him recognized that he was in a bad way and should wait it out to see what the damage was. He had no memory of coming here and he knew he wouldn’t have come on his own even if he was on his dying breath. That meant someone else had brought him in. It had to have been bad if the stick up the ass bats had broken the cardinal rule and not only allowed Jason in the house, but had brought him here without his knowledge.

He felt an overwhelming frustration rising up in his gut. How come they couldn’t just let him go? They hated everything about him; his morals (or lack thereof), his code, his behavior, his smoking, everything. Despite all that, they refused to just leave him alone. Why couldn’t they understand that he wasn’t the Jason that they knew before? He was fucked up and more trouble than he was worth and he was not about to change everything he was to make a bunch of morally correct assholes happy.

His eyes were watering and he knew if he blinked, he would have tears running down his face. He gave a shaky sigh and raised his hand not attached to the I.V. to his eyes and rubbed. Sleeping or not, Dick was not someone Jason wanted to have an emotional breakdown in front of. He took several deep breaths before moving his hand to lie across his chest.

He had been lucky that Dick had been asleep when he woke up, but he knew eventually his luck was going to run out. He closed his eyes and tried to remember the breathing exercises that Bruce had taught him when he was young and plagued with nightmares. The irony of this didn’t escape him and the quiet laugh he let out was a little on the hysterical side.

Trying to pull his thoughts together, he missed the way Dick shifted in his chair before his eyes blinked open.

He only knew his brother was awake when he felt a warm hand on his arm.

“Jay? Are you awake?”

_Fuck off you prick._ Jay did his best to pretend he was sleeping. He had no intention of saying anything to Richard Grayson today or tomorrow or seventy years from now. He thought he had pulled it off until Dick’s voice came to him again, this time sounding a little disappointed.

“Jay…it’s ok if you don’t want to talk right now. I’ll still be here when you’re ready….”

Jason’s stomach clenched at the warmth in Dick’s voice. He wished he would just go away and leave him alone. He didn’t want compassion from _anyone_ , but especially not from someone who wouldn’t give him the time of day when he wasn’t flat on his back.

It was quiet for a long moment and Jason thought that Dick had finished. He was wrong.

“I’m glad you’re home. Little brother.”

He gave Jason’s arm a light squeeze, and then his hand was gone. Jason heard him get up and leave the room, pulling the door closed quietly behind him. His stomach unclenched but the relief he thought he would feel from finally being alone, never came. _Home. What bullshit._

He lay still for a long time, hoping for sleep but when it finally came, it was full of green fire and bats.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sigh* So if all goes well, there will only be one more chapter of this. I wrote myself into a corner with the last chapter and it took me a LONG time to figure out how to fix it. Hopefully that won't happen again and I'll be able to finish this in a timely manner.
> 
> Music for this chapter was Rob Dougan - Furious Angels. Love this album and it's really great for writing fight scenes.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason heals and Tim doesn't sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're switching it up and getting both Tim and Jason's POVs in this chapter.

Chapter 4

"Who let you in here, Pretender? I thought we were to be spared your existence from now on."

Tim sighed and glanced at Damian from under his lashes as the younger boy wandered into the kitchen where Tim had his homework spread out over the kitchen table. He wasn't in the mood for a confrontation with the Demon Brat today. _Is it too much to ask for one day without a goddamn problem?_

"Mind your business, Damian."

" _Tt._ My house IS my business. What are you doing in it? Come to fight with Dick some more? I'm sure father would be very proud of you."

Tim tried to hold on to the remnants of the calm façade he was maintaining but after several moments of deep breathing, he realized that the pencil he had been using was now in several pieces on the counter in front of him. The scabs across the backs of his knuckles had reopened. Damian was leaning against the sink across from him, smirking.

"You know what you little brat? We were getting along just fine before you showed up and if I had my way, you would have been shipped back to your mother in a thimble by now."

Tim could feel the rage that was constantly boiling these days steadily rising to the surface.

Damian looked mildly offended before shrugging his shoulders casually and folding his arms in front of him. It made him look very young.

"Dick would never let you do anything to me. I am Batman's true heir and there's nothing you can do about it." He sounded smug.

Tim slammed his hands down and stood from his stool, leaning on the center island with both hands planted on the marble countertop.

"Go fuck yourself you tiny hell spawn."

Damian blinked, clearly startled. Tim didn't notice; he was busy collecting his school books and shoving them into his backpack. He was trying his hardest not to attack Damian because he had promised Bruce that he would do his best to be civil. But that meant that he had to leave this room right now before he throttled the younger boy.

He was moving for the front door when Alfred came gliding down the stairs with a silver tray in his hands.

"Master Timothy, what a delight it is to see you."

Alfred had a smile on his face but there was a good dollop of concern that he wasn't trying to hide.

"Hey Alfie. How's it going?"

Tim managed a smile for Alfred, even though he felt like putting a fist through the wall. The older man had always been exceedingly kind to him and no matter how mad Tim was, there was no way he was going to take his frustration out on him.

"Quite well. I've just come from Master Jason's room. These past few days have done wonders for his general health."

Tim snorted. He doubted Jason shared Alfred's opinion.

Alfred squinted as he did a visual scan of Tim, the squint morphing into a frown the longer he looked. Tim tried not to squirm.

"In fact, he looks a lot better than you so perhaps you should take notes."

I'm fine Alfred, I've just been busy."

Alfred's snort was much more refined.

"Indeed." His tone was as dry as a desert.

Tim shifted his backpack and headed for the door. As much as he enjoyed spending time with Alfred, he was not going to stay in the Manor while Demon Brat was home. _Or Dick. Jesus. Why did I come here again?_

"Master Tim. Do stay for dinner. I would be most grateful for your company."

Tim paused, and looked back at Alfred.

"I can't Alfred. Not tonight. _Maybe never again._ I'm sorry. I'll call you soon."

Alfred smiled sadly. "See that you do. Take care of yourself dear boy."

Tim's stomach clenched. He felt awful. He missed seeing Alfred on a regular basis but he couldn't live here anymore. Too much had happened since Bruce had returned from the dead. This house was no longer the haven it had been. "I will Alfred. See you soon." He was out the door a moment later.

 

**

 

By the time Jason was well enough to leave the manor, he was just as sick of himself as he was of everybody else around him. He had reluctantly followed Alfred's advice to the letter, successfully dodged almost every one of Dick's attempts at bonding, staged a weeks long campaign to steal Damian's dog's affection out of spite, and spent countless hours trying to forget where he was, and how he wound up there.

The nightmares had been particularly intense for the first couple of weeks; he had woken up on several occasions to find Alfred or Dick standing over him with expressions of mixed horror and sympathy on their faces.

His daily schedule became a series of trials to be suffered. Each morning would start with a nightmare that was interrupted by Alfred, Dick or both men followed by morning meds, breakfast and a quick brood if he wasn't knocked out by the pain killers before he could get a good funk going. A battle of wits with Alfred, and a hearty lunch was followed by hours of overthinking, rage, and regret, more pain killers, Dick's daily attempt to pretend that their relationship wasn't fubar, and then a cigarette if he could get 15 minutes to himself and was feeling well enough to hop to his bedroom window without drawing the attention of his "family" _._

He had spent two days max planning his revenge on every rotting soul that was present for Angie's death before he overheard Dick and Tim talking outside his half open door. Both boys had sounded on edge and cautious like they were one bad comment away from an argument they had been trying to avoid.

According to Tim, Angie had been given a proper burial through one of the Wayne foundations smaller charities and the rest of the mess had been "dealt with". Dick had made some token protest about Tim's word choice making him sound dangerous before falling silent. There had been a long uncomfortable pause before Tim gave a weary sigh and told Dick to "pass the damn message along to Jason. Christ." Tim's footsteps were as close to stomping as one could get and still be considered polite before the far-off noise of the front door slamming echoed up the stairs. Jason began slow clapping from his bed.

"Oh yeah Goldie. Well done. If I ever need notes on how to crash and burn, I know where to go." His voice was slurred and gravelly and talking hurt his throat but he didn't care. Listening to Tim snark all over Dick was worth the pain. If he couldn't maintain his own normal levels of sarcasm right now, he was going to enjoy it secondhand dammit.

His bedroom door swung open enough for him to see Dick's frowning face and slumped shoulders.

"Et tu Brutus?"

Jason laughed louder, switching from clapping to waving both middle fingers in Dick's direction before using them to mimic two bombs falling out of the sky and exploding.

Dick's frown became a scowl and he slammed Jason's door shut before stomping down the hall.

His time in the manor became even more monotonous after that. Dick avoided his room when he knew Jason was awake and if their bedrooms weren't in the same hallway, Jason suspected that he would have avoided the whole wing of the house. Despite the boredom, Jason was more relieved by Dick's absence than he would have liked to admit.

 

**

 

It was another week or so after Jason returned to his apartment before he saw Tim again. He was lounging on a warehouse roof in the middle of his territory, enjoying a gyro and the high from a good fight when he caught a flash of something red and moving quickly out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head in time to watch Red Robin do a somersault onto the roof next to his, then plop down on the tar paper and immediately start typing away at the mini computer on his wrist. His chest was heaving like he had been running all night. Jason took another bite of his dinner and wondered how long it would take before Red Robin noticed his presence.

Five minutes later and Jason had finished his meal and continued to be unobserved by the younger vigilante. Red Robin had spent the last minute or so frowning down at his computer in what looked to be quickly escalating anger and just as Jason was about to stand up and make his presence known, he lashed out and slammed his fist into the roof next to him. The resulting _thud_ echoed off the taller buildings around them. Jason froze and blinked. _Uh...what the fuck?_

He waited for another few seconds to see if Red was going to notice him before standing and making his way closer to the ledge of his own roof. From his new location, he could hear that Red was grumbling to himself and while he couldn't catch all of it, he felt himself giving an internal _ah_ when he heard Damian's name followed by some very creative epitaphs.

He braced himself against the lip of his roof and cleared his throat loudly.

"Evening Red."

Tim's head canted slightly and his eyes slid in Jason's direction. His expression didn't change.

"Hood." His voice was low and gruff like he hadn't had a good night's sleep in weeks. Jason could relate.

"Nice evening we're having. Well, _I_ was having before you found me." Crossing his arms was second nature at that point; he was aware it gave off Batman vibes, but it was a very effective tool when he needed to get information out of children and teenagers.

He ignores the voice in his head that reminds him that Tim is only a couple of years younger than he is and well versed in all the same intimidation tactics that Jason regularly employs. It winds up being a moot point once Red Robin also reminds him of this.

"Nice try Hood. Not gonna work."

He turned back to his task, ignoring Jason. His breathing had begun to settle as he talked to Jason but now that Tim was refocused, Jason could see his rising irritation in the way he was shifting like his skin is too tight.

In the ensuing quiet, Jason contemplated how to handle this situation. He could walk away, pretend he never saw the younger man and return to his apartment as originally planned. He could contact Oracle and pass along a message that there was a floundering bird out of the nest that could use retrieving and wipe his hands of the problem. He could continue antagonizing the younger man until he got mad enough to leave on his own thereby removing the problem for him. Or... _or you can remind yourself that Tim helped you when you needed it. Or, you can imagine telling this story to Alfred at your next check-in._ He cringed and sighed before turning away from the ledge and walking back to his makeshift table.

He paused for one more minute, then shook his head, and turned back towards Tim. A quick calculation of distance, and then he was sprinting across the roof, using the ledge as a springboard to clear the alley between the buildings. He landed with a loud thump a few feet away from Red Robin who didn't appear to notice. 

He would normally be annoyed about being ignored, but he had successfully wrapped up his evening early, he was pleasantly full and feeling charitable. He pulled out his pack of cigarettes, lit one, then sat down to observe the young man in front of him.

 

**

 

Tim had no idea what Jason was doing and frankly, he didn't give a shit. He was much too busy sending increasingly irritated messages to Dick, who was in the middle of explaining why he couldn't meet up with Tim as planned because of something Damian related. _Again._ While he wouldn't normally be surprised by this, Dick had been begging him for weeks to get together; ever since he had stormed out of the manor without saying a proper goodbye.

Their relationship had been slowly crumbling for a long time before now but the conversation in the hallway outside of Jason's sickroom had been the first time that Dick had looked at Tim like he didn't recognize him. It had hurt much more than Tim could have imagined despite all the arguments that had preceded it. He didn't like to remember the small pause he had made at the bottom of the grand staircase, waiting to see if Dick was going to chase after him. He _really_ didn't like remembering how his eyes had watered _from exhaustion; they were NOT tears_ and how it had felt like his chest had been hollowed out when he understood that Dick wasn't coming.

Tim realized that he was staring blankly at the ground and he shook his head quickly before looking up at Jason. His older brother was comfortably settled on the roof in front of him, legs crossed, leaning back on his hands with a cigarette dangling from the side of his mouth. Smoke curled gently in front of his face. He looked calm, curious and ready to wait Tim out.

A large part of Tim wanted to lash out just to make someone else as miserable as he was, but he was chronically tired and now he had been sitting too long and his exhaustion was beginning to catch up with him. His vision blurred for a moment, and he blinked several times to clear his view. He forced a frown onto his face and finally made eye contact with the young man sitting in front of him.

When it became apparent that Jason was content to just sit and smoke his cigarette in silence, Tim forced himself to put aside his anger at Dick and the world at large and focus on the most current issue at hand.

"So what do you need from me, Hood?"

Jason pulled the cigarette from his mouth, took a long drag, then blew the smoke directly into Tim's face. He seemed to be searching for a specific reaction and from the way his eyes were squinting at Tim, he hadn't gotten it. 

"What makes you think I want something?" He sounded genuinely curious.

Tim cocked his head and squinted at him. "Because you're here and not actively trying to kill me."

Jason rolled his eyes. "Ok, look. I thought it was already apparent that I no longer have a desire to murder you every time I see you but obviously I was wrong." 

Tim's snort was indelicate at best.

Jason shot him a look before continuing. "...so let's just call an official truce. Honestly, I'm tired of fighting. You're a solid ally and...yeah." His voice trailed off as Tim gaped at him.

Jason looked deeply uncomfortable for a long moment. Tim's head was spinning. The last several weeks had been brutal and he was so far beyond exhausted that his body should have given out on him by now. He had a hard time processing what Jason was saying and not solely because of disbelief.

"You want to be allies." It came out flat and he mentally cringed. 

Jason's face moved through anger, exasperation and resignation before settling into a carefully blank expression. "Yes." He stuck the cigarette back in his mouth and reached out a hand to rub at his left thigh.

Tim followed the movement with his eyes. "How's the leg?" The last time he had seen Jason before tonight, he had just resurfaced from a medically induced coma; courtesy of Alfred.

Jason shrugged. "Still attached. You know how it goes."

Tim nodded. The weight of his head almost pulled him off balance and he had to brace himself against the tar paper roof. O _k let's wrap this up. "_ So to summarize, you aren't here to kill me, you want to be allies and you don't need help with anything?" He cocked his head to the side, waiting for Jason to acknowledge that the last part of his statement was actually a question.

He didn't hear Jason's response because he could no longer hold in the massive yawn he had been fighting. His jaw opened so wide, he was afraid it was going to crack. _Right. Time to go home._

He was gathering himself to stand when his wrist computer went off again. He glanced at it quickly, saw it was Dick, and immediately lost the tenuous grip he had on his temper. Growling under his breath, he stabbed at the power button until the tiny device finally shut down. _Fuck you Dick._

He rubbed both hands over his face briskly, trying to bring back the calm he had been feeling.

"Listen, I gotta go. This has been interesting but..."

"What did asshole do this time?" Jason hadn't moved other than to stub out his cigarette butt and shift his position. Tim studied his face for a minute, looking for any sign that he was being sarcastic or that as soon as Tim opened his mouth, he was going to be interrupted with _sike, don't care. Gotta go Replacement._

When Jason continued to do nothing, Tim looked out at the buildings around them. He was stalling but he didn't know how to explain all the shit that had been building up between him and Dick over the last year or so. The constant battles with Damian that only grew in intensity after Dick gave Robin to the little brat. Didn't know how to express the growing feelings of abandonment and rage because everyone around him was dying or leaving. That no one believed him when he said Bruce was alive. That his own "family" had thought that he should be committed. That even after he had successfully brought Bruce back, no one had apologized. Didn't know if Jason would even care.

"Red?" Tim startled, then realized that Jason was still waiting on an answer.

"It's Dick."

"I figured. What did he do this time?"

"What do you mean "this time?" Tim didn't know why he was bothering to ask. Probably because it gave him an excuse to stay seated for an extra minute before starting the long process of dragging himself back home.

"Well, after that spectacular conversation you guys had outside my bed...the guest room at the manor, I didn't see you around the rest of the time I was there, so I figured he made it worse somehow. At the very least, I'm guessing he didn't apologize for being a judgmental prick."

Tim snorted. "No, he did not." He paused briefly. "I didn't realize you were awake that day."

Jason's gaze dropped to his lap. "Yeah well, I was. Thank you for that, by the way. The case, I mean. Thanks for helping and for finishing it for me."

Tim shrugged. "No biggie." The look on Jason's face made it clear that he disagreed with the sentiment.

"It was. Not a lot of people sticking their necks out for me these days and you had no reason to trust me at all and it's appreciated...so...yeah." There were two red spots growing on Jason's cheeks. He quickly jumped to his feet and began surveying the landscape. Probably looking for an escape route. _Good, conversation over. Let's go home._

Tim pulled himself to his feet, wavered there for a moment while his head swam, then took a steadying breath. He patted his pockets, checked that he hadn't left anything behind, and paused for another long second to steady himself.

"Well, this has been illuminating. Catch you around sometime, Hood."

Jason was watching him with concern, one arm outstretched as if to steady Tim. He opened his mouth but Tim was already moving towards the ledge of the building, pulling his grappling hook out as he walked. He could do this. Just another half hour or so, and he would be in his apartment. Just point and shoot the grapple, swing down to the ground, get to his bike, and drive it back to his nest. Not hard at all.

Point. Check.

Shoot. Check.

Swing to the ground.... As soon as Tim's feet cleared the lip of the roof, he realized that he had royally fucked up. _There should have been another step in there;_ _you didn't make sure the hook was secure. YOU DIDN'T CHECK THE LINE._

Tim's heart was in his throat as his head swung up searching for the hook's point of contact with the wall.

There wasn't one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY SHIT I had no idea that I hadn't posted to this in 3 YEARS. What kind of author am I? Good lord. I am the motherfucking worst. My bad.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick makes an appearance and Jason makes a decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all of the beautiful comments!! You guy are the best!

Chapter 5

Jason could see what was going to happen before Tim made it to the edge of the roof, so he was already moving with intent by the time it was obvious that his brother was in trouble. His grapple was stuck firmly in the building across the street and he was at the top of his arc by the time Tim tensed up and started falling like a rock towards the street far below.

Jason swung directly at Tim, grabbing the teen around the waist and then pulling his own feet up. He had discovered early in his career as Robin that it really sucked to bounce off a building while hanging from a jump line and it was even worse when he had a passenger who couldn’t control their movements. He had spent months practicing after the first time he had slammed into a brick wall and for once, he was grateful for the effort he had made as a young vigilante. He tucked Tim against his side and braced himself for contact with the wall ahead of him. His boots made a dull thud against the brick and he pushed off the building and started scaling down it. Tim was limp and trembling, making tiny wheezing sounds in Jason’s ear.

When they reached the street between the buildings, Jason gave the line a sharp tug and waited for the cord to wind itself up before tucking it back into one of his pockets.

Tim staggered away from him and slid down the building’s façade, looking shell shocked. He was beginning to shake; an affect of the adrenaline, Jason was sure. He crouched down in front of the younger boy and tried to make eye contact. Tim’s face was ghostly, and his pupils were blown. There was only a sliver of electric blue showing.

He glanced up at Jason and tried to regulate his breathing. “Holy shit. Holy shit.” He ran out of breath and had to stop talking to suck in a lungful of air. Jason glanced up and down the street, then back at Tim. After a quick onceover, he nodded, slapped his thighs and stood up. Reaching out his hand, he said “why don’t I drop you off at home. Is your bike around here somewhere?”

Allowing Jason to pull him to his feet, Tim nodded and took a deep breath. “Yeah, it’s a few blocks away from here.” His eyes were roaming around blindly and Jason wasn’t sure if he was actively scoping out the area or was imagining what could have been a very messy accident.

Jason dug his phone out of his pocket and started scrolling through the apps until he found the maps. Pulling up an aerial view of the neighborhood, Jason handed the phone to Tim. “Point me in the right direction.” Jason could have figured it out, but he had seen this technique work on many of the people he helped. Having a distraction gave them a moment to pull themselves together when they didn’t have the luxury of privacy or time to become grounded once more on their own.

It seemed to do the trick with Tim as well. He was calming quickly as he moved the map around looking for the correct street. His breathing had returned to close to normal as well. Without the adrenaline, he was quickly slumping over again and was yawning so frequently that even if he wanted to, Jason didn’t think he could get any answers out of the younger boy. _Not that he’s been particularly helpful about that anyway._

 

**

 

By the time Jason had pulled the Red Bird into the underground garage of Tim’s building, Tim was practically a dead weight against his back. Jason wasn’t sure how the younger boy was still mostly upright since he had been listening to snores through his helmet for most of the trip despite the way Jason had driven the Ducati like he was running from an invading alien force. He was absolutely _in love_ with this machine. He caught his breath and took a moment to appreciate Tim’s choice in vehicles before he pulled up to a row of subpar motorcycles parked along the wall of the garage.

Turning off the engine, Jason sat still, studying his passenger in the bike’s mirror as he contemplated the best way to get Tim up and off the bike. The usual awkward tension that existed between them had been mostly absent for the duration of the trip but now that they were stationary, and Tim was clinging to Jason in a way he would _never_ do if he wasn’t so far left of normal…well. _This shit right here is why I should have just stayed away. Fuuuuuuck._

The preternatural silence that had fallen after the bike’s engine had been cut off took care of the issue as Tim suddenly sat up straight and glanced around in mild confusion. He stiffened for a moment, then slowly released the death grip he had on Jason’s jacket. He looked like he was afraid of whatever Jason’s reaction was going to be.   _Can’t say I blame him given our past._

When Jason failed to start railing at him, Tim slid off the back of the bike. Jason pretended not to notice the flinch he gave before he was several feet clear of the motorcycle.

“So where do you keep this beast? You have a secret garage hidden somewhere around here?”

Tim yawned widely, nodding as he did. When it became obvious that he was going to be at it a while, he pointed to a shadowy section of the wall that had a wider space in front of it than the rest of the row. If Jason hadn’t put his Red Hood helmet back on for the trip, he never would have noticed the seam of what was clearly a hidden door. _Thank god for technology._

“There’s a remote on my keychain.” Tim sounded completely drained.

Jason glanced down at the keys and sure enough, there was the fob. He hit the button then looked up in time to watch the door slide back and up silently. He whistled once before walking the bike in a large semi-circle, and then backwards into the shadowed space beyond the door.

When he emerged from the room, he caught site of a security camera blinking in his direction.

“Bro. I mean, dude. How have you never been caught?”

Tim, who had been staring at his feet and shifting, looked confused when he glanced up. “What?”

Jason gestured in the general direction of the camera but not straight at it. No reason to raise suspicion. Feigning nonchalance, he surveyed the garage and located several more of the well-hidden cameras.

“There’s at least a dozen cameras down here. How has no one figured you out?” Jason couldn’t contain the note of disapproval that seeped into his question.

Tim straightened up, looking more alert than he had in at least an hour. He also looked annoyed.

“Despite what everyone seems to think, I’m not an idiot. I cloned the cameras. They see what I want them too.”

“And what if something _actually_ happens down here while you aren’t home? Who sees _that_? You? No wonder….”

Tim looked deeply offended as he opened his mouth to cut Jason off. _No, that’s hurt. You should be familiar with that emotion._ When he spoke, his tone was cold enough to send a chill down Jason’s spine. “You know, I actually thought that you were serious when you were running your mouth earlier. Allies. Why on earth would I want to be allies with someone who thinks so little of my ability to do my job?”

Jason shifted uneasily. “Repla…TIM…Tim…that’s not how I….” Jason trailed off as he realized that he had managed to forget that they didn’t have a good enough relationship for Tim to recognize when Jason wasn’t lecturing. When he was trying to express concern. Didn’t have a good enough relationship for Tim to give him the benefit of the doubt. Didn’t know if Tim would listen if he tried to explain himself. Didn’t know if Tim would care.

Tim’s face was beet red and he was beginning to shift from foot to foot in agitation.

“Give me my keys back.”

Jason gave the keys in his hand an experimental shake. He eyed his younger brother silently for a moment, weighing his options. _Give him the keys and this conversation is over._ Tim had switched to leaning against the closest pillar with his legs spread to keep his knees locked. _Just let it go, Todd. You tried your hand at big brothering, you suck at it, go home._

“As soon as you realize that not everything I say is a criticism.” _WHAT?!_

Tim looked as shocked as Jason felt. _Thank GOD I have a helmet._ He could feel his face turning as red as Tim’s was. He twitched self-consciously and tried to make it look purposeful. He couldn’t quite make his mouth move to finish his sentiment.

Tim gave him another few seconds but when Jason didn’t start talking again, he pushed off the pillar and trudged over to him with his hand out.

“Keys.” He sounded wary.

Jason handed them over silently.

“Good _night,_ Jason.”

 

**

 

Jason had always been an overthinker but up until recently he had mostly dwelled on the multitude of ways everyone around him had fucked up. He was unused to being plagued by thoughts of his own incompetence. It made him feel itchy.

He had tried avoiding thinking about the hideously awkward conversation under Tim’s building, had tried to avoid Tim himself, since then. Both efforts were a complete failure.

Jason was currently reclining in one of the spare chairs in front of the cave’s massive computer screens with his feet up on the console, legs crossed at the ankles. He was going for casual nonchalance, but he had a sneaking suspicion that he was failing. Nevertheless, he was stuck with the act; dropping it now would only make it worse. Dick was eyeing him from the seat next to him. The eyebrow that Jason could see was currently making a slow journey up towards Dick’s hairline. Jason grinned at him, swiveling his chair in tiny motions side to side.

He could hear Tim’s grunts from the practice mats across the cave. He had clearly been there a while before Jason had sauntered down the stairs, ready to make a big production out of his arrival for Dick’s benefit. Jason had warranted barely a glance from Tim before he turned back to the dummy in front of him. He was practicing kicks which was normal. He was executing them poorly which was _highly_ unusual.

“Yo Timbo! Close it up! You’re all over the place!”

“Fuck _off_ Jason.”

Thus concluded their conversation.

And now he was stuck sitting here with Dick’s sardonic expression. _10am and this day is already dunzo. Swell._

“How long is this gonna take Goldie? There’s a reason authors skip the paperwork part of the adventure.” Despite his best effort, Jason couldn’t contain his impatience any longer.

Dick snorted. “It’s going to take as long as it takes. We could always catch up while we wait.” His tone was hopeful but guarded. Jason’s immediate gut response was to say _hell no_ but he found himself pausing and listening to Tim again.

He pulled his legs down from the console, spun to face Dick, then rested his forearms on his knees.

“Ok.” Both of Dick’s eyebrows popped up.

“I thought small fry back there didn’t come here anymore.”

Now Dick was frowning at him. “Huh? What are you talking about? Tim’s just been busy.”

Jason inhaled and nodded. _Right._

“Just busy huh? Ok. When was the last time you remember having a full conversation with him?”

Dick stared off over his shoulder as he thought; a habit that had always amused Jason because it made his older brother look like the vapid rich kid a lot of Gothamites thought he was.

“It’s been a…while…” Dick turned to make eye contact again. He looked concerned and glanced towards the back of the cave. “I’ve been trying to give him space but….” He trailed off and shrugged. “I’m not sure I know what the right thing is anymore.” His expression turned sad.

Jason fidgeted for a minute, staring at his boots. He was silent for a long pause before huffing out a sigh.

“So, I’ve noticed that he hasn’t been doing so well in the past couple of months. You know, since…” he pointed his chin down at his thigh. Dick grunted in acknowledgement.

“Initially, I wasn’t thinking much about it. I was on a lot of meds and nothing is all that clear from that time and then I didn’t see him for weeks, but we sort of ran into each other last night and I don’t know, he just seems…tired.”

“Jay, Tim’s always tired. That’s his default mode.”

“I know, I know but not regular tired ya know? Like, soul deep tired. God, I sound like an asshole.”

There was a grin growing on Dick’s face. Jason scowled.

“I don’t see why you’re smiling. This isn’t all that funny. You didn’t see him. It was pretty rough.”

Dick shook his head. “I’m smiling because you care.”

Jason sat up straight. “I do not!”

“Yeah, you totally do and that’s _great_ Jay! I’ve been waiting for this since you…since forever!” Dick leaned forward with his arms out, going in for a hug. Jason flinched back and pushed his chair several inches away.

“I wouldn’t get too excited. I’ve been fucking it up.” Jason mumbled, holding his arms straight out to keep Dick off him. The struggle lasted only a minute before Dick stopped trying to suffocate him. He was still smiling like a lunatic.

“Jay. I screw up all the time. But is it better if you never try? I don’t think so.”

 

**

 

Tim was normally an observant kid. Jason had learned that early on. Even when he was still actively trying to kill the younger boy, Jason had noted his ability to acquire and piece together details before anyone else. It was one of the aspects of his personality that had earned him Jason’s grudging respect long before Jason had ended his campaign to take him down with extreme prejudice. However, he wasn’t infallible. As Jason was learning, he had a blind spot when it came to relationships of any kind. He didn’t know if it was solely because of the neglect Tim had lived through as a child _and wasn’t **that** a surprise_ or a combination of issues but trying to figure out a way to get through to Tim was arguably one of the hardest challenges Jason had faced in a long time.

The most immediate question Jason couldn’t answer was _why_ he gave a shit. He had spent several days contemplating the problem, but he still had nothing solid. It wasn’t the growing sense of familial duty, or even the half-formed desire for friendship and it _certainly_ wasn’t the result of feeling guilty over his own actions. _Whatever gets you to sleep at night dumbass._ His inability to understand his own reasoning was driving him almost as crazy as his predicament with Tim.

Jason shifted his weight for the umpteenth time and sighed as he stared at Tim’s apartment door. _None of this is helping and you can’t stand out here forever. The problem is in **there.**_

“Get a grip, Todd. Jesus.” He leaned forward and slammed his fist against the door as he yelled Tim’s name into the hallway. Just as he paused for a breath, he heard a thump and then grumbling coming from inside. A moment later, the door opened, and Tim appeared in the crack. He had opened the door just wide enough for Jason to see one very annoyed bright blue eye.

“This better be one hell of an emergency, Jason.”

“You’ll never know as long as I’m out here. Open up.”

Tim’s eyebrows rose, and he eyed Jason carefully for a long moment before reluctantly opening the door fully. Jason slapped his hand against Tim’s shoulder as he strolled by into the dim living room.

“Wow. This is…incredibly oppressive. Why is it so dark in here?” Jason strode towards the windows and found himself hunting for the mechanism to open the shades. When he was still fumbling minutes later, he turned towards Tim in exasperation. “What is this fuckery?”

Tim snorted from where he was leaning against his door, arms crossed, watching Jason. He shook his head, stood straight and walked towards the coffee table. “It’s remote controlled.”

He grabbed the remote from the coffee table, hit a button and headed for the kitchen.

“Coffee?” It was more of a grunt than a question.

“Sure.” The curtains had provided an extra distraction for Jason, who had still not worked out how to approach this conversation. Now that sun was flooding the large space in front of him, he could see the way Tim was dragging himself towards the kitchen like he was running on fumes already. _It’s barely noon._ He was also limping. _Bingo._

“So, what did you do to yourself?”

“Hmm?” Tim looked up from the bag of coffee he was carefully measuring into a strainer. “What are you talking about?”

“Your leg. You’re limping.”

“Oh. Uh.” Scratched his fingers through his hair and looked sheepish. “I’m not entirely sure. It’s a burn. Looks like a pipe. Don’t really know how I could have gotten close enough to get burned though…” Jason felt his mouth fall open.

“You _don’t know_? When did you notice it?” Jason could hear his voice rising towards an octave he hadn’t achieved in several years, but he was completely flabbergasted.

“Maybe the day after you gave me a ride home.”

“Oh sweet Christ. That was DAYS ago Tim.”

“Ok _mom._ What do you care anyway?” Tim scowled and turned back to the coffee machine.

“Wait a minute. A pipe? Any chance it’s in the shape of a Ducati’s exhaust?”

Tim cocked his head to the side and looked at the ceiling for a moment. “Huh. Yeah, it is. Well, there’s that mystery solved. You good to go?”

He looked back over his shoulder with hopeful eyes. Jason froze. _If you don’t leave right now, this conversation is happening and some shit is going to come up._ Jason had no idea what he was doing here. This was Dick’s wheelhouse, not his. Shit, even Bruce would…no, scratch that. _Well, here we got._ He took a deep breath and pasted his most annoying shit eating grin on his face.

“Nope.” Jason popped the “P” as obnoxiously as possible. “You’d better make a full pot. You’re going to hate this conversation.”

**Author's Note:**

> So much for these all being one-shots. I think this will only be a two-part fic but who knows. The music I was listening to for this was SomeKindAWonderful's - Police, Hard For Days, Honeymoon, and Reverse.


End file.
